Love Is
by Dagmar Buse
Summary: When you're in love with someone, you want to give him the perfect gift. Only that's not easy when he thinks presents are a stupid custom to begin with, even more so when his name is Eric. And then there's this thing called Christmas! Slash, part 2 of 2
1. Part 1: Wes

**_Disclaimer: _**_Not mine, not getting paid._

**_Note: _**_Some PWP for a very special lady. __J This fic is set in Cmar's "Turns in the Road" universe, dealing with a sexual relationship between consenting adult males – ie, Eric and Wes. (So if slash isn't your thing, you know where to find the back button!) A few events from "Turns" are referenced within, as well as our collaboration "Strangers In Red"; but it's not necessary to have read those stories to fully understand this. 'Part 2: Eric' will come at a later date, I promise. (Oh, and look into my profile for links to the uncut version!) _

_Happy Birthday, Cmar – hope you like! Everyone else, please pass by the feedback box on your way out?_

**Love Is ...  
**

**Part 1: Wes**

**By Dagmar Buse**

**_ Prologue: Choosing the Perfect Gift_**

"Any idea what you want for your birthday this year?"

Eric looked up from the surveillance equipment magazine he was leafing through. "Nope, why?"

Wes grinned and shrugged. "Just wondering what I could give you. After all, it's less than a month away."

"Well, hell – thanks for telling me, then. I would've missed it for sure."

"Very funny." Eric just grinned, and Wes gave him a mock scowl in return – along with the finger. "Come on, you must want _something_!"

It was Wes' turn to grin now at the long-suffering sigh.

"Anything's fine, as long as you don't go overboard," Eric told his partner and lover, relenting when he realized Wes was hell-bent on buying him a gift.

"You're not making this easy," Wes grumbled, slouching deeper into the worn armchair. "Assuming that 'not going overboard' means I'm going to have to set a price limit-"

"Damn right you do," Eric said firmly.

"-that means I can't give you stuff you might actually _need_, like a new car or new furniture. Or go book us someplace exotic for vacation. Hmm. Any books you'd like to read?"

"When do I have time for reading?"

"Uh, right. CDs?"

Eric shook his head and went back to his magazine. "There's this nifty thing called 'radio'. And in a pinch, I've got a dozen music channels on cable."

"Okay," Wes sighed, crossing yet another item of his mental list. "What about movies?"

"We haven't even gone through a quarter of your DVD collection," Eric reminded him. "There's also rentals. I prefer to go to the cinema anyway, and … I can think of better stuff to do when we're together than watch other people make out on screen." He gave Wes a meaningful glance.

"Well, yeah," Wes grinned, returning the look with interest and a quick flick of his tongue across his lips that made Eric catch his breath. Then he winked, his grin turning mischievous. "I could always get you a hand-tailored, made-to-measure uniform from Brooks Brothers," he suggested innocently. "Or sign you up for a fashion makeover. I'd even let you choose the designer. Hilfiger, Versace, Ralph Lauren – take your pick!"

"You do that – if you want to spend _your _next birthday in a full body cast," Eric said dryly.

"Spoilsport," Wes replied good-naturedly. "So the purple-sequined jumpsuit is definitely out?" He laughed when he saw his lover's expression run from exasperation through horror to half-murderous glare. "Hey, don't worry. You know I wouldn't do that to you."

Eric only grunted, then shook his head. "Wes, I couldn't care less about any of that stuff. You don't have to buy me anything. Drop it, okay?"

Wes got up and sat down next to Eric. Touching his hair, he waited until the dark, slightly slanted eyes met his own. "But I want to give you a present," he said softly. "I love you, and you make me happy; for that alone, you _deserve _something special for your birthday. Why won't you let me do something for you just for the fun of it?"

There was no way Eric could resist the coaxing smile or the hint of shyness in Wes' voice. So he relented grudgingly. "Oh, what the hell. Do whatever you want." He chuckled when Wes' face lit up. "You're worse than a kid who got promised his first trip to Disneyland. Just keep it simple, don't spend a shitload of money and try not to embarrass anyone, okay?"

"I promise," Wes said, then grinned. "So what _should_ I give you?"

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Eric rolled his eyes heavenward, then found a bit of deviltry in himself. Quirking his lips sardonically, he used a method he _knew _would distract Wes better than anything else. Hauling his lover into a deep, hard kiss that left Wes breathless, he slipped a hand under the red-striped shirt and skimmed teasingly across the tight stomach before cupping the rapidly-growing bulge just below. Wes hissed excitedly and, as Eric hoped he would, reached for his belt, undoing the buckle with fingers made clumsy by eagerness. But Wes' eyes snapped open wide when, just before he could take hold of his partner's throbbing erection, Eric whispered against his eager mouth.

"Surprise me." 

oOo

**_Love Is … Embracing His Past_**

"Surprise, huh?" Wes grumbled a couple of weeks later, still on the lookout for the perfect gift. "Easier said than done. How about a nice Caribbean island instead? Or a private yacht? At least I'd know how and where to get that." Sure, he'd come up with a few tidbits to give to Eric – a bottle of good liquor, aftershave, tickets to a sports event, but he wasn't satisfied yet. None of these items was _special _– anyone might give them to a casual friend or valued colleague. No, he wanted to give Eric something personal, something that showed how much he meant to him … something only _he _could give to his partner, his friend and lover.

While Eric was interested in a variety of things, he unfortunately had no real hobbies or special interests. Which wasn't making this job of finding the rightgift any easier. Briefly, Wes wondered if there were any people he could ask for help, but Eric had neither family nor close friends, and the idea of going to either of Eric's former lovers whom he'd met was not really appealing.

_-Nick Tate knows him best; he might have an idea, but he's busy at SPD – and asking Jason would be a waste of time, most likely. They met in a gay bar, for heaven's sake; the only thing they talked about was karate, and how to get in each other's pants. That's so not gonna help.-_

However, the involuntary surge of jealousy as he remembered Eric's account of his encounter with the first Red Ranger, and the fact that he and his only other serious boyfriend had spent a great deal of their time together in the gay scene – that is, bars and hotels where their relationship wouldn't raise a single eyebrow – set off a light bulb in Wes' brain. What if he took Eric to a place where they could openly spend time as a _couple_? Nothing too blatant, though; while Wes didn't quite share his partner's misgivings about coming out, he had no intention of making a spectacle of them … _or _watch a sleazy show of other guys getting it on in public. This was California; surely there had to be an establishment close by that was reasonably discreet yet catered to people with alternative lifestyles. San Francisco was too far, and the Castro district too obvious; the last thing he wanted was Eric guessing his intentions too soon and weaseling out somehow. No, to keep the surprise element, he'd have to find something else.

"I must be insane," he breathed, straightening from his comfortable sprawl in front of the TV in his room at the Collins mansion. "Eric's gonna kill me for sure, and then I'll be really screwed!"

Right on the heels of that thought, though, a usually-hidden part of him said: _'Man, I hope so!'_

The longer he tried to convince himself that this was a Really Bad Idea, though, the better it sounded. Suddenly feeling reckless, Wes threw caution to the wind and went to his desk, booting up his computer. He only had a week left; if his mad idea should have any chance to work, he'd need to do some serious research – and fast!

oOo

Eric couldn't help but feel a measure of anticipation despite his professed disinterest when he drove into work the morning of his birthday. Wes hadn't mentioned making any special plans for the last few days, but he knew his partner well enough to safely assume that after all the fuss he'd made about a gift before, he wouldn't just ignore the occasion. So, believing it best to be prepared for anything, Eric had made sure that his afternoon and evening were free – as well as the next day, just in case.

In his office, Eric called up the Guardians' duty roster and checked assignments. Sure enough, Wes was down for a consultation at City Hall in the morning, a training session right after lunch … and off-duty from the same time Eric was. He permitted himself a slow grin. If nothing else, they could always spend the night at his house, celebrating with a few drinks before engaging in their usual bedroom athletics. As always, his pulse sped up at the thought of spending the night with his lover, and for once the Quantum Ranger couldn't wait for his work to be done.

Eric met Wes for lunch at the Guardians' headquarters and received friendly, non-committal well-wishes from him, as if they were nothing but colleagues. It was what Eric thought he wanted, yet now that he got it, he felt oddly disappointed. He was about to voice a mock complaint, just because Wes had made such a big deal about the date earlier, but got distracted when their second-in-command Steve Miller joined them with his tray and a question about a disciplinary matter. Soon, the three men were engaged in a serious discussion over a recent case, and Eric was surprised when Wes was the first to leave.

"I'll go chase the rookies around the obstacle course now," Wes said lightly. "After that, I'm off duty until day after tomorrow. See you later, guys." Miller nodded, and Eric frowned, puzzled by the innocent look Wes gave him before striding off. That bland stare convinced him that his lover _had _concocted some kind of plan, but he had no idea what it might be. Feeling slightly suspicious yet curious, he forced his attention back to work.

There was an envelope on his desk when he returned to his office that was addressed to him in Wes' distinctive scrawl. Raising an eyebrow, Eric tore open the flap and extracted a single sheet. The message was short, to the point and gave him absolutely no clue.

_"Meet me at 8 o'clock. Use the GPS I've put in your personal car, it's programmed with the address. You'll need roughly an hour for the trip. Oh, and wear something casual. Wes."_

"What's with the cloak and dagger stuff?" Eric muttered, torn between feeling intrigued and plain exasperation. "Sheesh." For a moment, he was tempted to just ignore the message, but curiosity won out at last. He finished a few last details, then signed off, leaving Steve Miller in charge. A quick shower and shave later, Eric exchanged his uniform for well-worn jeans, a grey t-shirt and a leather jacket, snagged the keys to his car and left the house. The GPS lay on the passenger seat of his car, on top of another envelope. Inside, there was a credit-card-sized laminated piece of cardboard bearing the words 'The Club Room' and 'Confirmed Guest' underneath. Wes' accompanying note simply said, _"Once you arrive, go to the address below. Show the card to the receptionist; they will tell you the rest. Drive safely. Wes."_

Mildly exasperated, Eric shook his head, shrugged and plugged in the GPS, heading for the highway at its instruction.

A little over an hour's drive brought him to the outskirts of San Bernardino, then to an area that held a mix of stores, bars, restaurants and even an hotel or two. Having arrived pretty much on time, Eric left his car two rows over from Wes' at a guarded car park, then walked the final distance to the address Wes had provided. It turned out to be a row of tall, narrow 19th-century houses; the one he was looking for was right in the middle and had obviously been converted into an inn of sorts. There was an ordinary-looking restaurant to the right of the entrance, and on showing his pass, the polite and friendly young woman at the front reception desk checked a ledger, nodded and handed him an equally ordinary key card bearing the number 27.

"If you'll leave your jacket with me, sir, we'll take it to your room. You're expected upstairs."

"Right," Eric muttered, taking his wallet and keys before handing over his jacket. He didn't know whether to be amused by Wes' elaborate antics or if he should feel pissed off, but he was just intrigued enough to play along. For now. Following the receptionist's directions, he bypassed the restaurant to a staircase in the back and slowly went up two flights. A softly-lit hallway at the top led to a thick wooden door at the back and he could just make out the beat of music coming from behind it. _-They must have some pretty good soundproofing,- _the professional in him commented, but Eric deliberately turned it off; he was here as himself, not Commander Myers!Eric hesitated just for an instant before he reached for the handle, adrenaline surging within him as he walked through the leather-padded door. He found himself in a small, dark anteroom next, heavy curtains shielding the room beyond, but the music was louder now, interspersed with the murmur of voices.

_-Some kind of dance club or bar, obviously. Probably for the super-rich only, or something. This whole place reeks of money. Shit.- _

He hated it when Wes, however unintentionally, rubbed his wealth into his face. Eric knewthat money meant very little to his partner, and even less that he himself had only what he earned, but that made accepting his sometimes rather casual splurging no less easy. Especially if Wes spent money on _him_.He pushed the uncomfortable thought aside; Wes was expecting him, he couldn't just leave him waiting forever …

_-I'm not in the mood for this!-_

He _was _in the mood for some serious, uninhibited sex, though. Suddenly conscious of the room key he'd been given downstairs, Eric decided that he could put up with having a drink or two in swanky surroundings if it gave him an undisturbed night with his lover in what he suspected would be total luxury. At least he hadn't had to dress up! Running a hand through his hair, Eric pasted a smile on his face and stepped forward.

It took him a second or two to let his eyes adjust to the dim light, but that was enough to make it clear exactly what type of establishment the 'Club Room' was; the front restaurant might look ordinary enough, but upstairs itwas unmistakably a gay bar. There was a bar at the far end, high-backed booths along the perimeter, and several dancers filled the dance floor to the left. Eric had frequented more places like this in the past than he cared to remember; none as classy or as tastefully decorated as this, sure, but the bottom line was, men came here to pick up other men, with one goal in mind – sex.

Anger welled up hot and sharp within Eric; he had believed he'd put the whole scene behind him when he returned to Silver Hills and joined the Guardians, more so when his secret dream came true and Wes became his lover. For Wes, who _knew _that he regretted his rather checkered sexual history, to drag him right back into it, felt like a betrayal.

_-I'm gonna kill you for this, Wes!-_

He was jostled out of his thoughts when another arrival bumped into him from behind, but instead of a furtive grope or snide remark, Eric received a murmured apology from the two men passing him, their hands loosely joined. The overall atmosphere was quite different from any other gay bar Eric had ever visited, especially when the couple was greeted cordially by another at the edge of the dance floor, but that didn't change the nature of the place – and it wasn't a place Eric wanted to be. Still seething with anger, he was about to turn on his heels and leave when he suddenly saw Wes crossing the floor. He'd obviously just bought a drink at the bar, sat down in one of the booths and scooted around the small table until he was facing the room. Despite himself, Eric felt his mouth go dry as he took in Wes' appearance; like himself and most of the guests, his attire was casual, but the tight black jeans rode too low on his hips, the dark red muscle shirt clung too tightly to the well-defined torso, and his expression … even from this distance, the smile hovering around the mobile mouth was an invitation if there ever was one, and Eric knew that the blue eyes under the slightly-tousled dark blond hair would be sparkling.

_-Dammit, can he be any more obvious? Everybody's gonna think he's fresh meat; he looks as if he's just waiting for some guy to hit on him!-_

Apparently, another patron had come to the same conclusion; Wes had barely taken the first sip of his drink when a man in leather pants and a black silk waistcoat approached the booth, sat down uninvited and started to chat Wes up.

Anger of a totally different kind overwhelmed Eric; all thoughts of leaving vanished from his mind. No way in hell was he leaving Wes alone in this place! He might know how to take care of himself in a fight, but he was a babe in the woods when it came to moving in the gay scene … as was proved by the way he'd dressed – _-Way too inviting; he looks good enough to eat, and if he's not careful, that schmuck will try to do just that!-_ – and how he was replying far too politely and friendly to whatever the other guy was saying to him.

Cursing silently, Eric quickly bought a beer for himself at the bar and sauntered over to the booth, arriving just in time to see the stranger lay a hand on Wes' forearm and lean forward. "I'm available if you're looking for company," he said persuasively in a low, but perfectly audible voice. Eric wanted to slug him.

"He's not," he said coolly instead, appearing suddenly at the table. He raked the stranger with a challenging glance. "Or rather, you're not the company he's looking for. Get lost." He spoke casually, but the underlying 'or else' in his body language and expression couldn't be missed.

"Who the hell are you?" the man blustered, but did release Wes' arm as he got the message loud and clear. "He's old enough to make his own choices!"

"Yes, and I've chosen _him_ – quite a while ago, really," Wes smiled, managing the near impossibility of simultaneously conveying an apology to the stranger and welcoming Eric with a single look. "I would've told you in a minute myself. I'm already … taken," he added, his smile turning sultry. "Sorry."

Eric felt himself melt just a little at the intimate innuendo, but he kept up his not-quite-hostile stance until the stranger shrugged and got up. "No offense," the guy murmured, sounding rather peeved. "But I thought …"

"I know what you thought, and it was wrong," Eric interrupted him. "Now go, or I'll report you for poaching." He was guessing here; not every scene bar had restrictions against making a pass at patrons who were not obviouslymarked as being in a relationship, but the Club Room seemed like the kind of place that would. He was right.

With a shrug, the man collected his drink. "I'm going, I'm going," he snapped, then turned to Wes again. "I'd have liked to get to know you; pity. But if you ever come back alone … I'm usually here once a week."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I don't think so," Wes declined. "Have a good evening."

"You, too." With a last, lingering look at the handsome blond, the man left, pointedly ignoring Eric who watched him go to the bar with an unreadable expression on his face.

Wes sipped on his drink and waited for his partner to turn towards him, only to meet a fierce glare from the dark eyes when he finally did. _-Uh-oh.- _Time to ease the sudden tension. "Are you going to stand there all night, are you gonna join me, or are you leaving?"

Eric took his time to reply, clenching his fingers around the near-forgotten glass in his hand.

"Don't tempt me," he said curtly. "I haven't made up my mind yet whether to beat the shit out of you before or after going home."

Wes sighed. He had half-feared that Eric would react like this, but he hoped that he could placate him, maybe even change his mind – but that meant he'd have to get him to listen first. "Well, you can certainly try," he murmured with a weak attempt at humor, "but sit down and finish your beer first? Please?"

"Give me one good reason why I should."

Blue eyes met stormy dark ones. "Because people are beginning to stare," Wes said quietly. "You don't want to create a scene, do you?"

A quick look over his shoulder proved to Eric that unfortunately, Wes was right. After the way he'd sent the other guy packing, he _had _to lay claim to Wes – or risk others hitting on him even harder the moment he turned his back. He didn't think for a moment that Wes would actually accept any or all offers of 'company', but the mere thought made his blood boil. _-And here I thought picturing him with Jen, or another woman, was bad – hah!- _Fighting down a too-familiar spurt of jealousy, Eric realized that he had no choice but to sit down. Reluctantly, he lowered himself to the banquette.

"At least we can talk now without me getting a crick in the neck," Wes teased, but when all he got for his effort was another dark look, he sighed and pushed his glass away. "Look, I'm sorry. I can see that you're not thrilled to be here, I can even guess why, but believe it or not, I had my reasons for bringing you here today."

Eric snorted. "I just bet you did."

"Yeah, and they're most likely not what you think they are," Wes replied, losing a little of his own temper. "At least hear me out before we leave."

"We? Don't you want to use that room you already booked?" Eric sneered, but with much less venom than he originally intended.

"Only if I get to share it with you. _Will _you listen?"

Eric stared hard at his partner. Wes never flinched from the scrutiny, a silent plea in his eyes that was impossible to resist. "I guess," Eric grumbled at last. "Make it quick, though; I don't like this place."

"Right." Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Wes retrieved his drink, but only toyed with the tumbler. Slowly, keeping his voice low so they couldn't be overheard from the adjacent booths, he began to talk.

"Eric, it may not look that way right now, considering it was my idea to come here, but I haven't forgotten that you said you've put gay bars and the whole cruising scene behind you. And I didn't – _don't_ want to push you back into it. Hell, from what little I've seen while I was waiting for you, it's not something _I _want to be part of."

"Then why drag me here?" Eric snapped, fresh anger resurfacing in his voice. With an effort, he managed to speak quietly enough that the music was masking his words. "This place may be classier than what I was used to, but underneath all the money and stuff, the purpose, the _people_ coming here are exactly the same as in every dive I've seen. They want what every gay guy is looking for in a bar like this – a fast lay."

"Most of them, yeah," Wes agreed. "But Eric – this is part of your past. It helped make you who you are today,and it's totally out of my experience. Maybe I want, or even need to learn about some of it in order to know _you_."

"You already know me."

Wes sighed impatiently. Was Eric being willfully dense, or did he really not understand? "What if I want to know you even better? Seeing firsthand what you did, how you were back then can help me with that."

"I told you before, you wouldn't have liked me back then." He really, _really _didn't want Wes to dig too deep into the often sleazy world of gay subculture, where guys went who had to hide what they were. Not for the first time, Eric wished he could deal with his orientation as easily and openly as some other men did. Like Wes would, if he let him. But Wes wasn't finished yet; with an effort, Eric wrenched his mind out of the past and unspoken regrets to focus on his partner's words.

"Wouldn't I? I liked you well enough when we first met; I learned to like you even more when you came back. I can't believe that you were all that different in between, or I wouldn't have been able to pick up almost exactly where we left off back in school. Well, after you lost that chip on your shoulder, anyway." Wes grinned briefly, then touched Eric's shoulder. "Liking you had very little to do with having the hots for you; back when we first met, I didn't realize that my feelings would ever go that far." He reflectively sipped at his drink. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I couldn't have fallen in love with you if whatever you experienced in those years had changed you completely. You're still _you_."

Eric could feel himself softening. Wes was so earnest, so honest … it was hard to maintain his annoyance in view of what he had just heard. And yet … "You could have asked."

"Would you have answered?" Wes countered. "Told me something beyond the mere facts, which I already knew?"

_-No. I wouldn't. Not in any way you could understand, anyway.- _

Eric didn't have the skill with words to paint an accurate picture of what had drawn him to the scene in the past, didn't know how to convey the security of knowing that in a place like this nobody was going to judge him. In a gay bar, among like-minded people, it didn't matter that he was poor and from the wrong side of the tracks. All that counted were his looks, his willingness and his sexual prowess. Then there was the thrill of the hunt, the heady rush of meeting someone new, negotiating with a prospective partner and the breathless ecstasy of instant gratification, more often than not in an alley, a doorway or another hastily-found hideaway. And if you _did _make it to a room, got to have more than a few minutes of frantic coupling … he shook his head, dispelling memories of a past he wasn't proud of and tried his damnedest to forget.

"Probably not."

"That's what I figured," Wes said softly. "Eric … I never intended to bring up bad memories, believe me. I'm sorry if I did. But is it so strange that I want to see just a fraction of that world for myself this once? To experience firsthand what you did … and maybe share it with you?"

_That _got Eric's attention. His head snapped up, and he stared once more at his partner and lover, eyes wide with surprise. "You … what?!"

Shrugging sheepishly, Wes met that fierce, suspicious glance without flinching. "I brought us here because it's _not_ a typical gay bar. I didn't want to go somewhere rough or seedy," he admitted. "For what it is, the Club Room is as safe and civilized an establishment as I could find without firsthand knowledge."

"I guess," Eric conceded reluctantly. While the atmosphere was as sexually charged as in any other bar he'd frequented during his time in the army, it lacked a certain aggressiveness that was all too prevalent in the scene.

"What's more … nobody here knows us, so there's no fear of either of us being exposed. That's important to you, right?"

"Hmph." Eric grunted noncommittally. His anger was slowly abating, but he wasn't about to give in just yet. Besides, he could sense that there was more to the story. "Is that all?"

A slow flush actually crept up Wes' neck. "I, uh, I was hoping that just for tonight, we could be out in public together and be, well, a couple, y'know? There's no other place I can think of where we wouldn't have to guard every look, word or touch," he murmured. "Not that I'd object to do more if that's what you want, but … it'd be enough."

Stunned, Eric sat back. Not until Wes put this small wish into words had he realized that deep down he wanted the same thing. To show his feelings for Wes in public, without loss of respect, professional repercussions or opening themselves to ridicule, would be a relief. _-Who am I kidding? It'd be sheer bliss – and only an idiot would walk away from such an opportunity!-_

Eric knew he was many things, but 'idiot' never made the list. Not tonight at least, and not when Wes was offering him just about the greatest gift he could ask for, aside from becoming his lover in the first place. There was no way in hell Eric was going to refuse. Still, he had to be sure.

"You're serious about this?"

"Very."

Warmth filled Eric's inside … and the beginnings of arousal started fluttering in his gut. He swept the room with an intent look, cataloguing what was going on around them … and what wasn't. Men were talking and drinking; some were obviously cruising for partners, but nobody got obnoxious or overly aggressive. The dance floor was well-filled without being too crowded, by both obvious couples and singles/groups, yet it didn't seem as if any kind of floor show would be happening. With a start, Eric realized that he'd have _liked_ to hang out at the Club Room during his cruising days. Especially if he could've met someone like Wes.

_-Not that there's anyone like him …-_

A slow smile spread across Eric's face as he let go of the last remnants of his earlier anger and resentment. Deciding to grasp the golden opportunity Wes had dropped into his lap was a matter of milliseconds; he opened himself fully to the atmosphere, slipping easily back into the familiar role of predatory hunter – and Wes became his chosen prey. _-This just might be fun!-_

"Okay."

The blue eyes widened as the meaning of that word sank in. "O-okay?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

Eric grinned wolfishly. "Why not? You're right, nobody here knows us – and it's been a while since I've really cut loose. This place seems as good as any."

Suddenly dry-mouthed with nerves, Wes gulped. _-Cut loose? What the hell does he mean by that?- _He didn't know, and that was … slightly scary. He hadn't expected Eric to acquiesce quite as readily, and he felt momentarily at a loss of what to do next. He reached for his drink again, but the glass was empty; going to the bar for a fresh one appeared to be a perfect excuse to regain his composure and finagle a couple of minutes to plan his next move without showing Eric that he had no idea how to actually _do _what he'd said he wanted.

"Uh, right. Good. Great, really. I, ah, I'm getting a refill; you want one, too?" Wes made as if to get up, but was unexpectedly prevented by a strong hand pressing down on his thigh, pinning him to the bench. He closed his mouth with a snap, fighting a nervous blush.

"I'm sure they have table service." Briefly, Eric glanced around, catching the bar tender's attention with a small signal. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a waiter appeared at their booth.

"Good evening. What can I do for you gentlemen?" he said cheerfully.

Before Wes could say something, Eric gestured towards their glasses. "Two of the same, and if you serve bar food, the menu, please."

"Sure. Be back right away." True to his word, the young man brought a laminated card along with the beer and a second whisky. "I'm afraid it's not a big selection, but we'll hold your booth if you want to eat downstairs instead," he said.

Eric quickly skimmed the menu. "No, this is fine. We'll have a club sandwich each."

"Two clubs, right. You want fries with that?"

"Yes. Charge it to room 27." That way, they wouldn't have to deal with tabs when they left.

"Okey-doke. Ten minutes!" With that, the waiter disappeared, and Eric finally turned back to Wes, who was feeling rather stunned at not having been consulted and his partner's sudden take-charge attitude. He wasn't quite sure whether he liked it or not, but it was certainly … different … from their generally more even-footed relationship back in Silver Hills.

"You … you really want to eat? Now? _Here_?!"

"Lunch was hours ago; I'm starving," Eric shrugged, beginning to enjoy himself as he slipped deeper into topping mode. His agile mind could already picture a scenario that would have Wes creaming his pants … as soon as he let him, that is. _-You didn't think I was gonna let you off that easy for getting me here, didya?-_ But he was not about to tell Wes, nor to show him too soon what exactly he meant by 'cutting loose', so he kept his demeanor deliberately casual. "You have a problem with that?"

"Uh, no."

"Good. Cheers." He raised his glass in a sort of salute, which Wes copied, a bemused smile forming around his mouth as he made up his mind to just go with the flow and accept Eric's dominance for tonight with an inward shrug. Downing half his beer, Eric leaned back and idly slid his hand up and down Wes' leg, getting dangerously close to his crotch. Wes' breath caught; he'd clearly almost forgotten that Eric had yet to remove his hand from his earlier restraining touch. The denim-covered muscles clenched under the hard fingers, and the fluttering in Eric's gut intensified. _-Careful. There's no rush now.-_

"So how'd you find this place, anyway?"

Wes blinked, then forced himself to concentrate on the deceptively normal-sounding question. "Um, online." The next few minutes passed quickly as he detailed the convoluted trail he'd followed through websites and chatrooms until he'd ended up with the Club Room's address. All that time, the table top hid that Eric was slowly but surely driving him mad with unpredictable touches from groin to knees. He was only just finishing his report when their waiter returned, carrying two plates with sandwiches and fries. They ordered refills for their drinks, Wes switching to beer as well, and started to eat.

Much to his surprise, Wes discovered that he wasn't nervous enough to let the food go to waste; with every bite, his previously-nonexistent appetite grew until he chewed with as much vigor as his partner. The hand on his leg remained where it was, though, alternately squeezing and stroking, making it extremely difficult to control his need to moan and shiver.

Eric was done slightly sooner than Wes; there were a few fries still left on his partner's plate.

"You gonna eat those?"

"Yeah; I'm hungrier than I thought," Wes smiled distractedly. He took one fry, dipped it into the small bowl of ketchup and was lifting it to his mouth when a strong hand gripped his wrist, stopping him mid-motion. His eyes flew to Eric's. "What?"

"That's mine," Eric murmured silkily, gently forcing his lover's hand back towards himself. Holding the startled gaze with glittering eyes, he kept the fingers holding the French fry an inch or two from his lips, then slowly, deliberately licked off the ketchup before biting bit by bit off the piece of potato until every last morsel had disappeared behind the white teeth.

Wes gulped. Eric had snitched fries from his plate before; they'd even fed each other nibbles on occasion, but he'd _never _done anything like this! It was provocative, sensual and utterly arousing, especially when the fingertips of Eric's other hand brushed tantalizingly against his fly. It took him several tries to get his voice to work.

"W-want an-nother?" _-Shit, first I'm babbling, now I'm stuttering!- _

"Yes."

Wes did shiver at the firm tone, but obediently picked up another and held it out to his partner, mesmerized by how Eric could simultaneously be playful and commanding – and how that made something so commonplace so incredibly erotic. Soon, he was down to the last fry. Eric ate that, too, then caught Wes' wrist once more. Smiling enigmatically, he brought Wes' fingers to his mouth, then proceeded to lick every trace of salt, oil and ketchup from the tips.

All but gasping for breath as instant images of Eric's tongue swirling around a far more sensitive portion of his anatomy filled his mind, Wes closed his eyes, but the teasing caress was over almost before it had begun. His whole hand tingled, and his pants grew tight enough to be uncomfortable as his libido went into sudden overdrive. Involuntarily, he squirmed in his seat to relieve the pressure in his suddenly too-tight jeans. "Eric …" he groaned.

The Quantum Ranger smiled inwardly. Having Wes feed him a few fries had certainly looked innocent enough to a casual observer; intimate, but not overt enough to attract an audience. And of course the tabletop had hidden his forays up and down as well as between Wes' thighs from the other patrons. Combined, though, both actions were anything _but _innocent … as were his plans for the rest of the evening. As he'd intended, they had the desired effect of making Wes forget their surroundings; he was already showing all the signs of arousal Eric recognized so well, and very soon he'd have him exactly where he wanted him.

"Finish your drink," he growled, darkening the timbre of his voice to match the smoldering look he directed at Wes as he shifted surreptitiously to ease his own trapped erection. There was a distinct tremor in Wes' hands as he obeyed and drained his glass.

_-Excellent. Time to turn up the heat!-_

oOo

"Now what?" Wes asked, glad he'd managed to set down his glass without dropping it. He knew the question had come out sounding breathless and somewhat squeaky, but he was beyond caring. He couldn't remember when he'd _ever _felt this horny, and if Eric kept up the slow strokes along his leg much longer, he wouldn't be able to guarantee his behavior. Either he'd come on the spot, or Eric was going to get jumped! Much to his disappointment, however, Eric let go of him completely and slid out of the booth.

"Get up," he said and stood aside to make room.

Owlishly, Wes blinked, but promptly scooted towards the edge of the bench. The movement brought him face-to-crotch with Eric, and the sight of the thick long ridge straining the worn denim tempted him almost beyond endurance to wrap himself around the trim hips, take the zipper tab between his teeth, pull it all the way down and …

"Get _up_, I said."

_-Oh. Right. I can do that. I think.- _Wes got to his feet, swaying slightly, and sent Eric a questioning look. "Are we going up to our room now?" he asked hopefully, only to frown perplexedly when Eric shook his head.

"Nope."

"Why not? Don't you want to, uh …"

"Have my way with you? Yes. But later."

The bald statement sent a wave of heat through Wes. He had no idea what Eric might be up to, but as long as they got to make use of the wide double bed he'd booked, he was game for anything. _-Well … almost anything.- _"Okay," he agreed, his mouth going dry with anticipation.

Eric's hand slid around his back and Wes nearly stumbled when the slight but insistent pressure turned him around and towards the half-filled dance floor. Eric followed closely behind him as he steered Wes through the crowd of dancers, but much to Wes' surprise he was stopped once they'd reached a reasonably empty space in the middle.

"Eric?" he wondered, but the angular face, partially masked by the colored strobe lights flashing in time to the music, gave nothing away. "We're, um, on the dance floor." _-Oh, great. Way to state the obvious, Collins!- _

"I know. Dance," Eric told him.

"What?!"

"Dance. For me," he added in a low undertone that sent more shivers up and down Wes' spine. Eric couldn't be serious, could he? As far as he knew, Eric didn't dance at all, and Wes hadn't done so in years except for taking a couple of rather sedate spins around formal ball rooms with guests of his father's, but the heated gaze from the black eyes gave no quarter … and a part of him he hadn't known he had was only too glad to comply. Clenching his fists at his sides, Wes let his eyelids droop shut, forced himself to relax and tuned in to the music, letting the bass beat sweep him along. Slowly, rather self-consciously, he began to move.

Eric watched him, entranced by the way Wes swayed his hips and let his head fall back as he gradually lost his inhibitions and gave himself over to the rhythm. The swirling lights alternately highlighted and obscured the handsome face, the toned chest and muscular legs, but to Eric it seemed as if his lover was standing under a spotlight. Inexorably drawn towards it, he waited until an opportune moment, closed the distance between them and slid his hands around the narrow waist. He wasn't really dancing, just providing a steadying point by copying the moves Wes made with his lower body. Eric soon had them perfectly synchronized, and when Wes' startled glance changed into a sultry smile, he pulled him even closer.

"Mmm." Wes tried to wrap his arms around his partner, but Eric just shook his head, indicating without words that he liked things the way they were for the moment. If Wes needed encouragement, though, he knew just how to give it! Eric started by letting one hand glide up Wes' side, skimming across the dark red cotton of his t-shirt with an expert touch. Wes' stomach muscles rippled under the thin fabric, and he licked his lips sensually, asking silently for more.

Eric gladly obliged. As the music rose and fell, he explored his partner's chest, pinching the small nipples erect and bringing their hips together so that they brushed against each other with every sway and turn. Wes moaned softly and instinctively thrust forward, but was immediately restrained by those maddening hands. Pouting playfully, he used a little of his own strength to turn around, but with his back now towards Eric, that ploy backfired on him rather spectacularly. Because now Eric had free rein to press his groin directly over the cleft of that tight, denim-covered ass. He held them together with one hand on Wes' belt and continued to tease his pecs and abs with the other until Wes' head fell back against his shoulder in surrender, the open, panting mouth begging for a kiss which Eric refused to give. Instead, he nipped and licked along the vein standing out in stark relief on the arched neck, feeling the quickened pulse with lips and tongue.

Neither man was aware that quite a number of patrons were watching them now, fascinated by the sensual display. If they _had_ known, they wouldn't have cared; both were too caught up in each other to stop for anything other than what their bodies demanded.

Eventually Eric had enough; his need was threatening to overwhelm him and when the music changed to a different beat, he stilled all movement and gripped Wes' hips hard, making him stop as well. The blue eyes gleamed with barely-concealed lust, and when Wes moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, it proved to be the last straw.

"Upstairs. Now!"

Laughing throatily, Wes nodded and let himself be drawn against the hard body; with their arms around each other, they headed for the door.

oOo

They didn't even notice that the crowd of onlookers and fellow dancers parted for them with indulgent and/or envious smiles; they were too intent of gaining privacy so that they could rid themselves of suddenly chafing clothes and come together skin to skin, with no more barriers.

There was a small elevator tucked into one corner of the dim hallway; both men stepped inside and were kissing before the doors completely closed. A short ride up followed, spent busily devouring each other's mouths until they reached their floor where they quickly located the door to their room. Wes wanted to pluck his key card from his back pocket, but found himself pressed against the dark wood instead, Eric's mouth attacking his own once more while he unerringly reached for his crotch. Wes felt his head begin to swim as he groaned and ground his hips into that firm grip, breathing heavily by the time Eric released him and fumbled for the door lock. A couple of unsuccessful tries later, the lock clicked open at last and they stumbled inside.

"Eric, I-"

Whatever Wes wanted to say was swallowed by Eric's greedy mouth as he pinned him to the nearest wall, already reaching for him again. This time, there was no need to stop, so he abandoned himself willingly, grinding against the expert fingers that squeezed and stroked until he climaxed with a muffled shout.

Wes slumped slightly in Eric's grip, gasping for air as he surfaced from his near-explosive orgasm. "Whoa," he panted. "That was intense!"

"There's more where that came from," Eric said roughly, already yanking the tight red shirt out of Wes' waistband. "I want you naked – now!"

"Oh yeah," Wes grinned, eager to bring his lover to the same state of breathless release he had just experienced. He, too, went for the hem of Eric's t-shirt, and both men moaned when their bared chests touched. Impatiently, Wes waited his turn while Eric shoved down his jeans and now-messy underwear, kicked both aside and nearly ripped off the button before he could pull down the straining zipper on Eric's pants. Within minutes they were both naked, and Wes reached for Eric with trembling hands. Eric allowed himself to enjoy the familiar, knowing touch only briefly, though – he needed more than Wes' fingers or even his mouth, and there was a wide, comfortable bed only a few feet away. Prying Wes' hand loose, he gave his partner a not-quite-gentle shove in the right direction until they fell onto the bed together. They writhed against each other, kissing and touching wherever they could, until Eric lost what little patience he still had left and rolled on top of Wes, immobilizing him against the mattress.

"I've got to have you," he rasped. "Where's the lube?"

"Nightstand, I think," Wes groaned, already spreading his legs. They rarely felt such urgency, but Eric's show of dominance as well as the prolonged teasing session down in the bar had him so worked up that his recent climax had barely taken the edge off his arousal. He could only imagine how desperate Eric must feel right now. "Hurry!"

"Won't have to tell me twice."

Eric scrambled for the drawer and fumbled around until he found what he needed. With a triumphant grin, he knelt between the invitingly-open thighs and flipped the bottle's lid open. "Hold still; I don't wanna hurt you," he ordered, his dark eyes blazing with lust.

"You won't – ah!" Despite himself, Wes hissed sharply as a finger coated with cool gel entered his body. "Shit, that's cold!"

"Like that's a surprise? You'll be warm soon," Eric promised, his grin widening as he quickly and efficiently prepared his lover. Soon he was ready to move into position. A deep groan burst from his throat as he was engulfed by deliciously dark heat.

Wes moaned as well, but he held back from surrendering himself completely. It took an enormous effort, but there was one thing he wanted to say before the heat they were sure to generate between them obliterated all reason. He clenched his muscles to stop Eric from sliding in further and reached up to touch the flushed face hovering above his own.

"Eric? Eric, just a second," he pleaded, and was gratified to see that his partner retained enough control to hold back and look at him.

"What?" Eric growled, frustrated by the momentary delay.

Wes gave him his best smile as he drew him down for a gentle, loving kiss that was in stark contrast to their about-to-erupt passion. "Happy birthday," he murmured against the firm mouth, then lay back and relaxed completely.

There was a minute softening in Eric's expression as he briefly nodded in acknowledgement, then it grew fierce and predatory again. His smile turned shark-like, and before Wes realized what he intended to do, he slammed forward in one forceful thrust. Wes cried out in surprise and arched off the bed, only to be caught by strong arms and held tightly as Eric began to move with single-minded concentration. Whatever discomfort he felt was soon drowned out by lust and turned into pleasure.

Their coupling was hard, fast and furious; both men's bodies grew slick with sweat as they bucked against each other, and they were grunting almost in unison as the heat and friction drove Eric to increase his tempo to a near frenzy. Far too soon the coil of sexual tension in his gut exploded and he found his release with a muffled shout. Quivering in every muscle, he collapsed bonelessly on Wes' chest.

"Man, we've had some wild times before, but this was definitely one of the best," he gasped when he finally spiraled down from the ecstatic heights of moments before. Beneath him, Wes was also breathing hard – both from the exertion and renewed desire, proved by the hardness trapped between their bellies.

"Yeah," Wes panted, laughter in his voice. "Think we can make the next time just as good?" He wiggled his hips suggestively. Eric hissed sharply as a spark ignited his insides once more, then chuckled and kissed him.

"Sure. Just gimme a minute to get my second wind."

"A minute only? Are you sure you'll be up to it so soon?"

"Smartass," Eric grumbled half-heartedly at the atrocious pun, but moved his own lower body to show that he had lost very little of his enthusiasm, or his hardness. "Seriously, I can't remember when I've last been this horny," he continued more quietly, a smile entering his voice. "It's gonna take me more than once tonight to be done – same as you, right?"

"Uh huh. Glad to hear it," Wes smiled, shifting his legs a little to get more comfortable. "I take it you want to go for a second round?" Which was fine by him; he loved having Eric making love to him.

"Well, since I'm already in position …" Eric's attempt at innocence fell woefully flat, and Wes laughed, wrapping his arms around Eric's neck.

"That you are. Go ahead, then – make my day!"

"_Your _day? I thought this was supposed to be _my _birthday surprise?"

"The best kind of gift," Wes boasted, shivering with delight when Eric began to move again, slow and shallow this time. "Maximum enjoyment for both the giver and the recipient … ohhh!" He moaned because Eric reached between them and started to fondle Wes.

"If you can still say big words, I must be doing something wrong," Eric murmured, stroking gently. "Guess I better shut you up."

"Please do," Wes replied, and had his wish when his lover took his mouth in a deeply demanding kiss as they scaled the heights together once more.

It took longer this time for both to reach completion; they were no longer young enough to climax twice within such a short period, and because they enjoyed taking their time with each other, using all the expertise they'd gained to make this second round even more pleasurable than the first. Wes shuddered into orgasm first, then rode out his partner's way to the pinnacle and over, holding him tightly when he emptied himself a second time deep within him. Eventually, they slept.

oOo

The next morning started with a long, leisurely shower during which Wes found himself first on his knees, his mouth busy, then pressed against the tiled wall as Eric brought them both to yet another shattering climax. As far as both men were concerned, it was a perfect way to start the day.

"I'm gonna be so sore when I get home," Wes complained good-naturedly as he got dressed afterwards. "That hour-long ride isn't going to be fun."

Eric paused in looping his belt back on and frowned. "I haven't hurt you, have I?"

"Nah. You just wore me out," Wes grinned and went over to kiss him. "Don't worry, I'll live."

"I'm not worrying."

"Right," Wes laughed, seeing through that flippant reply without effort. "Never mind, I'll find a way to give _you _a sore ass one of these days, too."

Eric's dark eyes gleamed, but he managed to keep his expression indifferent. Barely. "Oh yeah? You and what army?"

"Don't need one. Just consider yourself warned."

"Hmph."

"Love you too," Wes replied teasingly, then grew momentarily serious. "Eric … can we talk about last night? Not necessarily now, but one of these days? I know I probably overstepped a line by arranging to come here without your prior consent, but I'd really like to know more of the time when you were away." He also wanted to explore the different dynamic they'd had between them, but that was a topic better left for yet another day.

Eric considered the hesitant request. He wasn't particularly keen on rehashing his past, but Wes _had _accepted things well enough when they unexpectedly cropped up – most notably, coming face to face with Nick and Jason. He never wanted Wes to look too closely into what had shaped him, but if Wes could embrace former lovers – _-Well, not literally!- _– then there was no reason to assume he couldn't do so with other things.In fact, each incident had made their relationship stronger in the end, and there was no reason why sharing a little more might not do the same.

_-Besides, if it leads to more nights like the last … I'm all for it!- _Having Wes be so pliant and obedient to his every impulse was a memory to be savored for days and nights to come … and if he was very, _very _lucky, could maybe repeated in the future. _-Or I could do it for him …- _Ruthlessly, Eric cut off that train of thought before it was fully formed. If he hadn't, they might never get out of this room for a week!

"I'll think about it," he said at last, the slight smile around his mouth making it far more definite than his words. "Can we have breakfast now? I'm starving."

"Sure," Wes agreed readily, knowing Eric well enough to read between the lines. He had waited long enough to find the person he could love; he could wait a little longer until he was willing to share. "Just don't make we wait too long."

"We'll see," Eric grumbled, tossed the last of their toiletries into the bag Wes had brought and zipped it shut. "Ready to go?"

"Whenever you are."

As they sat down in the restaurant, steaming mugs of coffee before them and their breakfast orders placed, Wes grinned at Eric. "So, since you obviously decided to let me live, are you gonna get me back for this birthday present?"

"You bet your ass I will," Eric grinned back. "But I'm not gonna tell you where or when, so watch out."

"Ooh, should I be scared?"

"Possibly. No, make that definitely."

The warmth in the blue eyes was contagious. "Sounds good. Surprise me!"

_To Be Continued …_


	2. Part 2: Eric

_**Disclaimer: **__As usual, not mine, I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox. _

_**Note: **__-sigh- This has to hold the record for the most rewrites I've ever done on a fic – and that __doesn't__ include the six or so pages of the first version I'm keeping on file for maybe working it into another story one day. Details about Eric's personal history come from Cmar's stories __Red Fire__Booty Call__ and __Turns In The Road__. (For adult versions of some chapters, please visit her section on Oh, and I know it's really too soon for a Christmas story, but I wanted to stick to the "gift" premise, so … you get it a bit early. Deal. ____ Sequel/second half to Cmar's birthday present; enjoy, and please pass by the feedback box on your way out?_

**Love Is …**

**Part 2: Eric**

_**Prologue: 'Tis The Season To Be Jolly**_

"Where the hell have you been, and what the hell is _that_?!"

Wes grinned at Eric as he staggered into the house, his arms laden with boxes and packages.

"Hello to you, too. I was out shopping."

"No shit," Eric commented dryly, relieving Wes of a goodly portion of his load. He dumped them unceremoniously in a hallway corner, surprised at how little weight those unwieldy boxes actually had.

"Careful! Some of that is fragile," Wes yelped, putting the rest down much more carefully. Then he shook out his arms with a small grimace. "Man. That was awkward to carry."

"You could've called me out to help," Eric pointed out, taking Wes' beret, utility belt and uniform jacket and hanging them up on the clothes rack.

"Well, yeah, but then I'd have spoiled the surprise," his partner smiled, kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his uniform jacket and finally moved in to kiss him. "Mmm. It's good to be home at last. It's been one hell of a long day," he murmured against Eric's lips.

"So why did you make it even longer by going shopping?" Eric replied, smiling slightly at the enthusiastic greeting he'd become used to in the months since Wes had moved in with him. "And shopping for what, anyway?"

Wes smiled back rather sheepishly. "Well … you know that I was over at the docks, to check out those warehouses we're supposed to guard next week? They have some serious surveillance issues … anyway," he recalled himself when he saw Eric raise an eyebrow at his tangent, "I was passing Home Depot on my way back, and they were putting up this huge billboard advertising a special sale on Christmas decorations, so … I just decided to stop and check 'em out."

"Christmas decorations," Eric echoed, his expression going blank.

"Uh huh. It's December 1 tomorrow, we have nothing put up yet, and I got some great bargains! Just wait until you see everything," Wes said excitedly. "I'll show you after dinner." He fairly bounded towards the kitchen, where the tantalizing smell of the lasagna Eric had started earlier beckoned from the oven. "Damn, I'm hungry," he said, starting to lay the table. "How long until dinner's ready?"

"Ten minutes or so," Eric replied, having followed more slowly. His dark eyes were shuttered, and he was keeping his features carefully neutral.

Wes didn't notice; he was too wrapped up in his plans to get the house ready for Christmas, as he called it. As the two men sat down and ate their dinner, he rambled enthusiastically about where and how he intended to decorate the outside, what kind of tree he planned to buy, where to set it up and whatnot. Eric barely said a word; not that it mattered for once, as Wes was doing more than enough talking for both of them. However, when he started to discuss the merits of colored twinkling lights versus plain white ones, Eric reached his limit.

"How about neither," he interrupted his partner curtly. "Frankly, I couldn't care less."

Startled, Wes looked at him with wide eyes. "But it's our first Christmas together," he protested. "I mean, _really _together, under the same roof!"

"So?"

"So when do you plan to start decorating?"

"I don't do Christmas, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, yeah, but I thought that was because you … uh, because we …" he gulped, not quite knowing what to say as he caught the sudden spark in Eric's dark eyes.

"Because we what?" Eric asked, his voice dangerously mild.

Wes flushed and stared down at his plate. "I thought you didn't bother with decorations because you had nobody around to enjoy them with," he mumbled finally. "And since I'm living here now, too …"

"I 'haven't bothered' as you call it because I don't want to break my neck climbing up and down ladders hanging lights only to do it all over again to take 'em down a month from now," Eric told him sarcastically. "But the main reason is because the folks in the neighborhood don't have the money to buy that stuff in the first place, or to pay the electric bill afterwards."

Reluctantly, Wes nodded. "Okay. I hadn't thought of that. But we can afford to-"

"Sure, _we_ can. But are you gonna rub it into everybody's face that they make less money than we do?"

"Well … no."

"Didn't think so."

Reluctantly, Wes abandoned all ideas of stringing lights along the roof. "How about at least putting up a tree, or hanging a wreath or garland on the front door?"

"What for?" Eric asked, making an impatient gesture. "Are you gonna hang a tree from the ceiling? We have hardly enough room as it is. And don't give me crap about 'everybody does it', or 'it'll look nice'; I don't give a rat's ass about either!"

Sighing, Wes shook his head, got up from the table and started clearing away the dishes. "Never mind," he murmured, hiding his disappointment. "It's not that important."

He tried several times to change Eric's mind over the next couple of weeks, always with the same result – Eric flat-out refused to do _anything_about Christmas except what consideration for their co-workers demanded of him.

"Just let it go already, okay? All that touchy-feely stuff, the glitter and fake snow is a load of hogwash anyway, and I'll be damned if I follow some fucking custom just because everybody else is stupid enough to do it. No decorations, and that's _final. _Got it?" Eric's eyes were steely, and Wes knew from experience that further arguments would be futile.

"Yeah, I got it. Loud and clear," he said, his face a bland mask for once.

"About time," Eric grumbled, and buried himself behind the newspaper.

Two days later, Wes quietly returned the decorations to Home Depot.

oOo

_**Love Is … Exorcising Ghosts of Christmas Past**_

On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, Wes was taking care of a few last details in his office when Eric dropped in unexpectedly.

"Hey. Sorry, I'm not quite done yet," Wes told him with a smile. "I really need to finish this report; it has to go out first thing in the morning day after tomorrow."

"No problem," Eric replied. "How long do you think you're gonna need?"

"About an hour, why?"

"Just asking." He stared at his boots for a few moments, then looked up. "You know that vista point, just off exit 13 on the northern highway?" he asked without preamble.

"Yeah, sure." It was little more than a bend in the road, halfway up in the mountains, that offered an excellent view over most of Silver Hills, right down to the beach. It was also a very lonely spot.

Eric nodded once, tersely. "Okay. Meet me there at seven?"

"Sure." Puzzled, Wes watched his partner leave before he could even ask why Eric wanted to drive so far out of town. What in heaven's name did Eric want to go up _there_ for – on Christmas Eve too, right after nightfall? It was a good place to park the car if one wanted to go hiking, but somehow he doubted that was what Eric had planned.

_-Well, guess I'll find out once I get there.-_

It was the perfect incentive to make Wes get back to work. Once he was done, he drove home, took a leisurely shower, shaved, and with a small anticipatory grin turned down the bed. He also switched on a low-volt reading lamp, laid out a bottle of their favorite lube and readied some towels. Eric might have nixed a more traditional Christmas, but that didn't mean they couldn't celebrate the holidays in their own special fashion, did it? As an afterthought, he also fetched a bottle of red wine and two glasses, placing them on the nightstand. Finally, he set the room's thermostat to just the right temperature – both for the wine and … whatever else. He was done just in time to make their rendezvous in the mountains.

X 

As soon as Wes' car turned the corner at the end of the street, a grey minivan pulled up to the house. Two men and one woman got out, let themselves in and closed the door firmly behind them. After nearly an hour of stealthy yet hurried activity, they left, carefully locking the house again before they drove off.

X 

Darkness had fallen completely when Wes reached the small promontory near exit 13. Eric was already there, standing at the far end of the guard rail. Slowly, Wes crossed the road to join him, his shoes crunching on the gravel as he approached the lonely figure.

"Hey," Wes said quietly as he was only a few feet away. "Here I am, seven sharp, like you asked me to."

"Yeah," Eric replied, giving him a small smile. "Thanks."

Wes waited for him to say more, but nothing was forthcoming. Slightly bewildered, he took a closer look at his partner … and suddenly noticed that Eric's stance couldn't be more tense if they were both morphed and about to take down a whole group of armed criminals. _-Uh-oh.-_

"Is something wrong?" he asked at last. "You seem … I dunno, upset. Are you?"

"Not really."

_-Oh, great. Communicative, are we? Not!- _Rolling his eyes frustratedly over Eric's habit of sometimes being close-mouthed to the point of irritation, Wes decided that the direct approach might work best. As usual.

"Eric, what's the matter?" Wes came to stand by his partner's side and touched his shoulder. "I'm not trying to pry, I'll wait until you're ready to talk, but even an idiot can see that _something's_ got you all worked up."

Eric remained silent, even turned his face away.

Wes let his hand fall back to his side. "I'm right here to help, but I can't do that if I don't know what you might need help with," he murmured with a hint of sadness.

"I don't need_help_, exactly," Eric said at last. "It's just … there's something I've got to tell you. I just don't know how."

"Any way you want," Wes replied without hesitation, keeping his tone soft and soothing. "I can deal with everything, as long as it's not that you're kicking me out."

_That _garnered him a fleeting glance and smile. "Not gonna happen."

"Then take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Thanks."

oOo

Wes waited patiently until Eric was ready. Suddenly the wind, only a light breeze until now, picked up and grew chilly; he shivered involuntarily and drew his jacket more closely around himself, burying his hands in the pockets.

The small movement was enough to draw Eric out of his brooding and prompted him into speaking at last. When he did, though, he was going in a direction Wes hadn't expected.

"It's Christmas Eve today."

"Uh, yeah."_-Eric – stating the blatantly obvious? What the __hell__ is going on?-_

"What did you do on the holidays – as a kid, I mean?"

"I take it you mean more than the obvious, like eating turkey, exchanging presents and stuff?" Wes replied carefully, feeling his way around the unexpected minefield.

"Uh huh," Eric nodded. "Any special memories, or something?"

"Actually, yes." Casting his mind back to his childhood and early adolescence, Wes had to smile. "You know my collection of classic adventure novels? Dad started that for me the Christmas after Mom died. He often was too busy to read me a bedtime story each night, so he came up with the idea to make reading to me into special occasions throughout the year – like on Christmas Eve. The first book he started with was Dr. Seuss; later, he gave me Grimm's Fairy Tales, the Hardy Boys … all the stories _he'd_ read as a boy. When I grew old enough to understand them, Dad went on to Treasure Island, Ivanhoe, Tom Sawyer,Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe – you name it, I got them. And he'd alwaysat least_start_ reading them to, or with, me."

"Sounds great."

"It was. Sure, I got other, more tangible presents as well, but in retrospect that hour or two I spent with Dad, right beside the Christmas tree, was always the highlight of the holidays. Of course I grew too old to be read _to_ after a few years, but he would still give me special books each year and we'd share time reading _together_."

"How long did you do that?"

Wes glanced over at his partner, wondering whether Eric was going somewhere with this question.

"Until last year, actually. I guess with him now married to Lina and me having moved out, it's finally over, but it's definitely one of my best memories," Wes added with a rueful chuckle.

Eric bowed his head and gripped the guard rail. "You had it pretty good as a kid, then."

"I guess, but it wasn't as if Dad spoiled me. Sure, I got most of the things I wanted, whether for my birthday _or _Christmas – a bike, karate lessons, a trip to Disneyland, that kind of stuff. But the presents weren't what made Christmas special; it was spending time around the tree with the person who was closest to me." _-Like I wanted to with you.- _Wes cleared his throat, abandoning the past for the here and now.

"Why do you ask? You never have before."

"Just curious."

_-Yeah, right …-_ Belatedly, Wes remembered with a pang that Eric's own childhood memories were hardly likely to be as happy.

"I'm sorry, Eric; I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I wanted to know," Eric replied distantly, still not meeting his eyes. "No need to apologize."

"Still …"

A sharp glance from hooded dark eyes silenced Wes. "Forget it."

"How can I, when it bothers you so obviously?"

Eric swallowed once. He really hated telling Wes about his past, before they even knew each other, but felt that this once, he had no choice. _-Screw feeling uncomfortable; Wes __deserves__ an explanation!-_

"Haven't you wondered why I don't do Christmas?"

Wes coughed. "Well, yeah. I, ah, I assumed you don't care for how commercial the holidays have become," he fumbled. "And that maybe you might have some, um, not so good memories."

"You could say that." Eric's voice turned low and almost vicious as he dredged up memories from his childhood he would've preferred to forget completely.

"You already know that I grew up dirt-poor, right? Well, nobody in our trailer park cared about decorations. No matter what I saw on TV, I knew I wasn't gonna get any of that at our house – I was lucky when my old lady at least remembered to buy food before she spent the rest on booze." Eric snorted. "The jerk she was married to used to take it out on me when Mom drank her breakfast, lunch and dinner … and ours as well. I learned early to keep away from both of them as much as possible when I didn't want to end up black and blue all over."

Before Wes could even think of anything to say, Eric continued.

"One time, a neighbor gave me a toy his kids had outgrown – a remote-controlled car. It was all scratched up and dented, but I didn't care; I'd never owned anything that cool. I was racing the thing around the table legs on Christmas morning, and accidentally bumped into the cup Dad had put on the floor next to his chair. He freaked when the coffee spilled all over the carpet. First, he beat me up … and then, for good measure, forced me to take a hammer and smash my car so I wouldn't do it again."

Wes clenched his teeth so hard, his jaws hurt. He'd known Eric's childhood had been bad, but not _how _bad. "Didn't your mother help you? At all?"

"Her? The only thing the bitch did was complain about the noise we were making; said my crying gave her a headache. That was before she passed out on the couch again, of course." Eric gave a short, bitter laugh. "Not that it mattered much; a year later, they were both gone who knows where anyway."

His mouth dry, Wes was at a loss for words. He had a feeling Eric would reject any expression of sympathy on principle, mistaking it for pity. Besides, what _could _he say? 'I'm sorry'? Totally lame and inadequate.

"What about that foster family you were with? Didn't they celebrate Christmas?" he ventured at last.

"Oh yeah." Eric tugged at his collar, as if he needed more room to breathe. "Until they found out I was gay. They called DCS right away. As things turned out, I had to leave for a group home right before the holidays. After that … Christmas could go hang for all I cared."

Wes slowly shook his head. "Man. I had no idea," he said hoarsely. "I mean, I kinda guessed it wasn't all smiles and roses for you as a kid, but I never thought you missed out on something so … well, universal."

"Now you do. It's not something I like to recall."

"I get that – now." Wes chose his next words with great care. "But Eric, why didn't you tell me any of this four weeks ago, when we nearly had a fight over those decorations I'd bought? I'm deeply touched that you could share as much as you just did, that you trust me enough, but you didn't have to go into all those details. All I ever wanted or needed was a _reason_, something beyond 'you don't do Christmas'. Why not simply tell me you had too many bad memories? I would've understood."

The harsh gleam left Eric's eyes, to be replaced by a rather bemused expression. "Somehow, that never occurred to me," he muttered, then let a slightly sheepish smile slip through his barriers. "Guess I never believe things _can _be that simple."

"They are for me," Wes replied quietly, daring to touch Eric's cheek at last. "At least where you are concerned."

Eric covered Wes' hand with his own, slightly leaning into the warm palm. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Wes shook him slightly. "There had better not be a 'next time', you stubborn idiot," he glared, then softened the epithet with a smile. "Ever. You hear that?"

"Yeah." Eric sighed. "Let's go back," he said abruptly, feeling tired and drained. "It's getting late and too damned cold to stay up here."

"Good idea. I could do with some food, too; my stomach's beginning to think I've cut my throat," Wes agreed. They would take time later, when the atmosphere between them was no longer quite so emotionally charged, to discuss the matter in more depth, but for tonight … it was enough.

oOo

They arrived home almost simultaneously, parking their cars side by side. The small house was dark and silent, but for the first time in weeks Wes wasn't bothered by it. They hung up their jackets and Wes was about to suggest that they slap a couple of steaks on the grill, nuke a couple of potatoes in the microwave and maybe add a salad when he noticed Eric casting a furtive glance towards the living room. The door was closed, and Wes frowned slightly; he didn't remember pulling it shut after him.

"Did you close the door before we left?"

Eric hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah."

"Weird. I don't think I did, either."

"Maybe you're getting forgetful in your old age," Eric said lightly, grinning when Wes mock-glared at him.

"Watch it who you're calling old; you're only a couple months younger than me." A sudden thought made Wes stiffen. "You don't think somebody broke into the house, do you?"

"Not very likely; this isn't exactly Burglary Central."

"Hmm, yeah. Maybe just some kids looking for liquor, or something. We'd better check."

"Maybe we should," Eric agreed, trying hard to contain the butterflies dive-bombing in his stomach. Would Wes accept the surprise he'd arranged for him as the apology-cum-peace offering he meant it as? He could only hope. "You go first."

"Right. Weapons?" Wes was already moving towards the door, lowering his voice to a cautious whisper. He raised an eyebrow when his partner just shook his head no, then shrugged inwardly. Eric was right; if they _did _catch kids raiding their drinks cabinet, they'd only scare them to death by pointing firearms at them; besides, it wasn't as if the two of them weren't capable of dealing with an intruder or two, armed or not.

Slowly, carefully, he turned the door knob. The lock unlatched with a soft 'snick' and Wes peered inside, all senses fully alert. No sound came from the room, but he caught a flicker of light through the gap between the door and the jamb.

_-Fire?- _No, it was a steady glow, not the dance of open flames, and Wes pushed the door open wider. Still no movement orsound. He could feel Eric right behind him, waiting and ready, so Wes flung the door back in one smooth move and stepped into the living room.

It was empty.

Adrenaline rushed out of Wes like water down a drain, and he finally remembered to release the breath he'd been holding. Running a practiced eye around the walls, Wes checked to see whether anything was missing; the room seemed exactly like they'd left it almost two hours before. Only then did he catch a good look at one corner near the back wall … and froze.

"What the hell …?"

A small table stood there, covered with a floor-length white tablecloth; two chairs were arranged to either side, and on top of it someone had laid two place settings, complete with intricately-folded napkins, gleaming silverware and sparkling crystal. An arrangement of red candles, silver-sprayed pine cones, a few sprigs of spruce and holly was set in the center; next to the table was a serving cart with an array of platters and chafing dishes, and a wine cooler held two already-opened bottles. The glow of light he'd seen came from three silver pyramid shapes of differing heights, made out of some kind of reed and threaded through with softly-glowing fairy lights.

It wasn't _quite_the traditional Christmas setup Wes had envisioned four weeks earlier, but close enough to bring a lump to his throat. Wide-eyed, he glanced over his shoulder at Eric, who shrugged with one shoulder.

"Surprise."

Wes closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it, but when he looked up again, the scene hadn't changed – he was still standing in their living room, and there really _was _a festive table set for two.

"Eric?" Wes asked huskily. "What did you – I mean, how – oh shit, why?"

Eric gave him a wry grin. "You think I hadn't noticed how you were looking at the store windows downtown? Or how you always drove by the big tree outside City Hall every chance you got? Hell, you even sighed over the sappy carols they piped through the mall! I would have to be deaf, dumb andblind _not_ to realize that you missed all this stuff."

Wes blushed slightly and glanced at his feet. "I tried not to."

"I know. I appreciate the effort. But just because _I _couldn't care less about the holidays, I realized eventually that I didn't have to spoil 'em completely for _you_. I decided I could live with some things … as long as they're kept to a reasonable minimum."

Feeling rather choked up with emotion, Wes nodded. "Of course." He suddenly had to fight the urge to break into a silly grin.

"How the hell did you manage this, anyway?"

Now it was Eric's turn to squirm and hide his blush. "I, uh, I went and asked Philips," he mumbled at last. "Told him I'd get you out of the house and gave him the spare key." He'd intended to explain more, but whatever words he was trying to find were swallowed by Wes' mouth claiming his lips in a fervent kiss.

"Thanks," Wes whispered once he could be sure his voice would obey him. It couldn't have been easy for Eric to go to _anyone _for help; he hated admitting that he couldn't, or didn't know how, to do something.

_-To be honest, I wouldn't know that, either – and I'd've asked Philips as well!-_

That Eric had done so at all spoke volumes to Wes, as much as the fact that Eric had gone against his own inclination and arranged this surprise for _him_.

"I love you," he murmured against Eric's lips, then kissed him again. Eric responded readily, opening his mouth to the soft stabs of Wes' tongue, but nevertheless gave his partner a wary look afterwards.

"You're not gonna go all mushy on me now, are you?"

Wes burst into laughter. That was Eric, all right – going out of his way to do something special, thoughtful and unexpected for someone he cared about, then trying to hide it by putting on the snark as soon as possible. He hugged his partner and hid his face against Eric's neck. "No. No, I'm not."

"In that case, you're welcome."

Feeling almost giddy with emotion, Wes tightened his arms around the leanly-muscled back. "Just let me say one thing?"

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide a small smile. Seemed that swallowing his pride this once was worth it, to judge by Wes' reaction. "Okay."

"This is just about the best gift you've ever given me," Wes said in a low voice, his eyes suspiciously bright. "That you did this for me, tonight … after what you told me earlier …" He discarded several expressions of gratitude and appreciation, for fear he'd embarrass Eric, and finally settled on the most simple and straightforward. "It means a _lot_. Thank you."

"You already said that. Now, can we eat? The food's getting cold," Eric muttered gruffly, but he made no attempt to move out of Wes' embrace. Thankfully, Wes could take a hint.

"Sure," he grinned, and released Eric after one final squeeze. "Since Philips did this, I _know_ the food's going to be terrific – and you know what? Suddenly I'm starving!"

"By the look of this, we could feed half the duty shift." Eric sat down, shook out his napkin and was about to reach for the serving cart when it occurred to him that he had no idea which dish to start with. This wasn't a restaurant where waiters served each course in the correct order. He covered his momentary lapse by pouring wine instead, then raised an eyebrow at Wes who meanwhile had lit the candles in the centerpiece. "Okay, rich boy – you're the expert. What do we have first?"

Chuckling, Wes lifted the cover from a plate resting on a layer of crushed ice. "Cold starters, of course." He whistled when he saw what was underneath. "Wow. Oysters and caviar. I'm impressed." Deftly, he served first Eric, then himself.

Eric eyed the open shells on his plate with blatant skepticism. "Is that … raw?"

Wes nodded and reached for a lemon quarter. "Uh huh." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Come on, you eat sushi. How's that different?"

"Sushi doesn't look like it's still half alive."

"Trust me, the oyster won't bite you. You eat it like this." He squeezed a few drops of lemon juice into the shell, loosened the oyster with a tiny two-pronged fork, then sucked the whole thing directly into his mouth. Gingerly, Eric copied him, chewed, swallowed and immediately reached for his wine glass.

"Ugh. People pay money for that?"

"Yeah – and you don't want to know how much," Wes grinned, ate his second oyster, then had a sip of wine as well before he started buttering the tiny cracker that went with the caviar. Grimacing, Eric followed suit.

The caviar was only marginally better; Eric found he didn't care much for the taste nor the texture. "I can't believe this stuff is considered a delicacy."

"To be honest, I don't care much for it, either," Wes admitted with a smile. "But I'm sure Philips meant well."

"Well, I did ask him for gourmet food," Eric said and shrugged. "Guess I should've been more specific. At least he left out snails."

"I like escargots; the garlic butter is terrific. But they have to come fresh from the oven. Good ol' Philips probably just wanted to make sure our evening would be _really_ special," Wes mused, his expression turning supremely innocent. "After all, he's used to always looking out for me." Eric gave him a questioning glance over the rim of his glass. "Didn't you know? Raw oysters are supposed to be a rather potent aphrodisiac."

Eric nearly choked on his mouthful of wine.

"Don't tell me your father's _butler_ is interested in our sex life!"

"Noooo idea," Wes snickered, then sobered at Eric's rather horrified look. "Don't worry. Philips likes you too much to even speculate."

"He … what? How'd you get _that_?" They both exchanged their plates for two small bowls of creamy soup.

"Haven't you noticed? He's calling you 'Master Eric' now," Wes said, picking up his spoon. "He wouldn't do that if he didn't approve of you – of _us_, really."

"Oh." Feeling vaguely embarrassed yet pleased, Eric ducked his head before starting on his second course.

The rest of their dinner was as exquisite as the starters. Dessert was left for another time; after four courses and a side salad, both men didn't think they could do justice to the frothy chocolate mousse over fresh honeyed fruit. Wes decided _not _to tell Eric that both chocolate and honey purportedly were aphrodisiacs as well.

_-Nice try, Philips, but it's not as if we'd __need__ extra help!-_

Instead, they blew out the candles and took their coffee to the couch, relaxing in the mellow atmosphere created by subdued lighting and a perfect meal. At last, Wes put his empty cup down on the low table and turned towards Eric.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Eric nodded, even though he got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. If Wes intended to dig up more details about the crappy holidays he used to have … he needn't have worried.

"Why did you take me up to the vista point?" he asked curiously. "It's a gorgeous spot, especially at twilight, but … why now? Why tonight?"

Eric tensed. He really should've known Wes would pick up on that. "It's kinda stupid," he hedged.

"Not when it means something to you," Wes contradicted him softly. "And I think it does. Please?"

There was no way he could resist the expression in the blue eyes, and Eric sighed in resignation. "If you must know … it's a habit I picked up the year I moved back to Silver Hills. I used to drive around after I was done with my shift, to familiarize myself with the city, the surroundings … anyway, one night on my way back I needed to make a pit stop, and that seemed as good a place as any." He leaned back against the couch, a faraway look entering his eyes. "As you said, it's a great view just after nightfall; I stayed for a few minutes taking it all in. The city, the harbor, the houses … all the things I'd sworn to protect when I joined the Guardians. Somehow, seeing it from up there made it more real."

"I can see how," Wes nodded, having felt something similar earlier. "But how did it become a habit?"

Eric shrugged a little sheepishly. "That first night? I promised myself that someday, I'd be more than just a nameless, invisible drone, running around in a uniform, protecting people who didn't know me. For once, I wanted to be _seen_, wanted to stand out of the crowd. Two days later, I found the Quantum morpher, and you know the rest." He swallowed and glanced sideways at his lover, but Wes' expression was neutral.

"After that, I started going there when I needed to think, or just to remind me of my goals and plans." He coughed uncomfortably. "Told you it was stupid."

"It's not," Wes corrected him with a smile. "You've kept your promise, and then some – everybody in Silver Hills knows and respects you by now. And you did it all by yourself, too."

"Well … you helped some," Eric murmured, pleased enough by the honest admiration he could hear in Wes' voice to give him his due.

"If I did, it was for a very good reason," Wes replied, leaned over and draped an arm around Eric's shoulder. "Which has _nothing_ to do with your or my past, what you told me up there or how we celebrate the holidays – or not. Wanna know what does?" He waited until the dark eyes met his. "I love you," he whispered. "That's the only thing that matters."

Eric felt a knot of tension he hadn't even been aware of unravel and smiled. "Couldn't agree more." He reached up to draw Wes' lips towards his own. "Merry Christmas."

oOo

The kiss was slow and gentle, starting with only slight pressure until Eric's eyes drifted shut and he opened his mouth to let the moist tongue slip inside. He responded just as slowly, preferring for once to let the excitement build gradually. Eric wrapped one arm around Wes' back, intending to draw him even closer, but to his surprise Wes resisted, ending their kiss instead. His lips brushed upwards, feathering across the closed lids in a silent 'look-at-me' plea.

Smiling, Eric obeyed, the beginnings of arousal showing in the dark depths.

"Not bad for starters," he murmured. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because I want you to relax and let me take care of you," Wes said huskily.

He slowly ran the pad of his thumb across Eric's lower lip, who captured it between his teeth and bit playfully, then soothed the small sting with his tongue.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Wes chided, cupping Eric's cheek instead. "_I_ want to do everything."

The promise in Wes' voice and eyes was impossible to resist.

"Everything?" Eric's gut tightened with anticipation.

"Uh huh," Wes nodded, giving him a lingering kiss that spoke of endless possibilities … and was way too brief for Eric's liking. "You won't regret it."

"Promises, promises," Eric quipped, then deliberately leaned back against the couch. "Okay, do your thing."

"Smartass," Wes muttered, chuckling a little. "Good thing I love you for more than your sense of romance." He kissed him again, more deeply this time, still keeping a slow, languid pace. Eric found it harder than expected not to just take over; he wasn't passive by nature, and now that they'd started what he hoped would be a prolonged session of lovemaking he was getting impatient to get to the 'good' bits. However, Wes wasn't cooperating.

"Easy," Wes whispered. "There's no need to hurry."

"Says you," Eric grumbled. He was getting aroused, tried to pull Wes more firmly against him, only to encounter unexpected resistance. "Wes …!"

"Eric …!" Copying his tone perfectly, Wes eyes were dancing as he threaded his fingers into Eric's hair. "Let's try it my way for now, please? I've wanted to do this for quite a while …"

Sighing, Eric nodded and let his arms fall to his sides again. "Oh, what the hell."

"Gee, enthusiastic much?" Wes grinned, his own pulse speeding up at the tacit compliance. It was rare that Eric gave him such free rein to indulge one of his fantasies. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll like what I have in mind. Now, where was I?"

"Right about here, I guess," Eric muttered and tilted his head so that their lips almost brushed against each other and their breaths mingled.

"Oh yeah …" They kissed again.

Eric's breathing grew heavier of its own accord as Wes took his sweet time. Each sweep and curl of the moist tongue inside his mouth sent an arrow of desire right into Eric's groin. It wasn't their first time to be tender with each other, but usually it was in the aftermath of sex, not as part of their foreplay.

_-Damn. How'd he know what that would do to me?- _he thought hazily, then moaned even as he turned his head to offer better access to his neck.

Wes had been waiting for just such a sign, and smiled to himself. _-Now I have you just where I want you to be …- _He let his lips taste Eric's skin as he nibbled his way down towards the hollow at the base of his throat,.

"Mmm," he hummed against the faint pulse, and Eric's breath hitched – then again when the first two buttons of his shirt were opened deftly and knowing fingertips brushed across his collarbone. Wes' touch was feather-light, almost teasing, but still managed to leave a trail of fire in its wake. Eric could feel his heartbeat accelerate.

"You gonna take all night?" he asked, his voice slightly breathless.

"If I have to," Wes replied, continuing to nosh at every inch of tanned skin that was revealed as he opened button after button. "Mm, nice!" Using only his fingertips and nails, he outlined the contours of Eric's pecs, circling the small brown nipples until they hardened and peaked. He then bent forward, captured one of his nipples between his teeth, the other between his thumb and middle finger, then teased the small peaks with his tongue and index finger. A jolt of pure lust shot through Eric at the double stimulation.

"Oh shit," he gasped, a shudder wracking his body. "Do that again!"

To his dismay, Wes stopped instead. "Don't tell me what to do," he admonished softly. "This is _my _show, remember?"

Eric groaned again, in frustration this time, but did his best to lie back and relax. He was rewarded with the return of Wes' mouth and hand to his chest. He paid particular attention to Eric's navel – another area that proved to be much more sensitive than Eric had imagined, feeling his senses beginning to swim.

_-Damn. Why the hell have we never done this before?-_

The simple answer was, they'd usually been so caught up in lust and desire that despite years of being lovers, they'd almost never taken the time to truly seduce each other, like Wes was doing now. And if they did, it soon progressed to more frenzied activities … Also, until recently they had stolen moments whenever they could, occasional nights or weekends not withstanding, and urgency had often superseded everything else. More complex was the realization that Eric had never had a partner whom he _wanted _to seduce, that he generally preferred a more direct approach … and that Wes didn't often take command of their lovemaking. It wasn't a question of dominance or submission, rather that they might unwittingly have fallen into a pattern that served them well yet didn't leave much room for experimentation.

Eric was drawn out of his reverie by the soft 'clink' of metal on leather as Wes undid his belt buckle and the back of his hand brushed against his erection. Eric gasped and held his breath, but Wes was still taking his sweet time, outlining the swollen flesh through Eric's clothes. Eric instinctively bucked his hips towards the warmth hovering over his groin, hissed with pleasure as Wes touched him at last … and was gently pressed down onto the couch once more.

"Easy, love. No need to rush, is there?"

Eric swallowed a couple of times to get his vocal chords to cooperate, his throat was so dry. He wanted to feel flesh on flesh, to thrust into a firm hand or willing mouth, wanted it badly – until it dawned on him that it might be a while yet until he got his wish. So far, Wes had set an excruciatingly slow pace; there was a very good chance that he'd be taking as much time, if not longer, to get down to business.

The prospect was both frustrating and terribly exciting.

"Are you _trying_to drive me mad?" Eric grumbled, not really surprised when a spark lit the blue eyes.

"I sure hope so." Wes grinned and slipped one fingertip inside the waistband of Eric's briefs, gliding it across his stomach from one hip to the other. Eric tensed with anticipation, then stifled a moan when the longed-for touch was delayed yet again.

"You're enjoying this way too much," he accused his lover, breathing heavily.

"Damn right I do," Wes replied, his lips curving in a positively wicked smile. "Aren't you?"

To deny it would be the biggest lie Eric ever told, but to admit it would mean he'd be giving Wes total control over what happened next … which suddenly seemed like a both terrifying _and_ terrific idea.

"Hell, yeah."

"Then you'll enjoy even more what I'm going to do next," Wes promised huskily, recognizing the admission for what it was – surrender. He kissed Eric again, deeply and leisurely, then slid off the couch. With sure hands, he peeled down the dark pants, helping Eric to lift his hips so he could remove the tight briefs as well. Soon, both garments were puddled around Eric's ankles, and Wes knelt between the spread knees, stroking slowly up the insides of Eric's thighs.

The sensation raised goosebumps on Eric's skin. He was already painfully hard and yea-close to demanding Wes got on with it already, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it might come out as begging, and he wasn't_that _desperate.

Yet.

Thankfully, Wes seemed to think that he'd teased him enough. Gently, he began to lavish attention on the satiny skin of Eric's erection until his lover moaned and clenched his fists into the fabric of the couch.

"Fuck, yeah!" It took all of Eric's willpower not to thrust upwards. Wes firmed his hold, pumping slowly, then bent forward at last, the contrast between his hot mouth and cool breath exciting Eric all the more. Dark eyes slit with arousal, he raised his head enough so he could watch.

Blue eyes met Eric's, full of fire. Eric could feel himself break out in a light sheen of sweat, his chest heaving rapidly, and could no longer suppress a blissful groan when Wes drew him excruciatingly slowly into his mouth.

Eric's world narrowed down to the heat and wetness centered between his legs; while some part of him craved more and wanted to take over, another part told him to do just what Wes had asked him to do – namely, sit back and simply _feel_.

Pure sensation won.

Eric's head was swimming; unconsciously, he lifted his hands and threaded them through Wes' hair, caressing the soft strands in sync with the continually gentle sucking and massage. Wes eased off again, then stilled and only flicked his tongue rapidly against that area where he knew Eric was the most sensitive. The stimulation sent Eric over the edge at last and he climaxed with a strangled cry.

oOo

It took a while for Eric to come down from the dizzy heights of his orgasm, especially since Wes continued to hold him in his mouth until he went completely limp.

"That was … whoa," Eric murmured huskily, sliding his fingers from the blond hair to Wes' cheek. Wes chuckled, the sound a curious mixture of triumph and tenderness.

"Then I didn't promise too much?"

"Hell, no."

"Good." Somewhat to Eric's surprise, Wes let go of him completely and got to his feet. With a slow smile he started to pull his turtleneck sweater over his head, revealing his smooth, sculpted chest, then reached for his belt. An anticipatory shiver raced along Eric's synapses, making him catch his breath. Their eyes held as Eric kicked off his pants and briefs, watching avidly until his field of vision was almost completely filled by the sight of Wes' arousal. Wordlessly, Eric gave up trying to get out of his shirtsleeves, moved as far back on the couch as he could and opened his arms to his lover.

With a small groan, Wes all but fell on top of him. The skin-on-skin contact was intoxicating, and both men wrapped their arms around each other, holding on for dear life.

Soon, though, Wes began to squirm and rub himself against Eric, who laughed deep in his throat even as he lifted his knees to make Wes more comfortable.

"Knew you wouldn't be able to hold out much longer," he said smugly.

"Wiseass," Wes retorted, thrusting harder now that he had the room. He briefly lifted his head and shook hair out of eyes that were bright with laughter and lust. "Help me?"

"Sure." Shifting a little, Eric managed to work one hand between their bodies and closed it around the smooth column of flesh. The other he slid under Wes' shoulder and around the muscular back, holding him firmly in position on top of him. "Go for it," he whispered, squeezing slightly.

"Yesssssssssss … " Wes shuddered once, then abandoned himself to the fire in his loins. His hips moved faster; soon he was gasping for breath, and Eric's knowing fingers did the rest. Within minutes he reached his own pinnacle, falling over as he erupted between their tightly-pressed bodies, his cry of release muffled by Eric's fierce kiss.

It took Wes longer to recover than Eric, but he didn't mind; he was feeling too damn good to care that they were all but glued together by sweat and his come. Nor did Eric care that Wes had his face buried in the crook of his neck, his breath cool and moist against his skin. He gently ran his hand down Wes spine, from the short hair to the swell of his behind.

"Mmm." Wes hummed contentedly; he loved the way Eric was caressing him, and the teasing foray of a finger between his cheeks caused a faint flutter of renewed interest in his gut. However … "Gimme some more time, willya?" he muttered, still somewhat dazed. "I'm not the Energizer Bunny."

"Pity," Eric grinned, but stopped tickling. No matter how tempting it was to goad Wes with hints of more intense sex, he was right – they _both_ needed some more time to regain their strength. "Later, then?"

Wes flexed his shoulders and turned his head sideways so he could see his partner's expression. "Of course," he smiled, giving him a smoldering look. "On one condition, though."

"What condition?" Eric asked a little warily. Sometimes, Wes had ideas he wasn't entirely comfortable with.

"We get off the couch and make use of our nice, comfy, _king-size_ new mattress."

Dark eyes lit up even as Eric pushed Wes off him, drew them both to their feet and towards the bedroom. "Now _that's _what I call a plan!"

oOo

Two hours later, Eric settled against the headboard while Wes poured wine for both, then waited until Wes had found the perfect position by his side – a leg tucked between his, one arm across his waist and the blond head on his shoulder. For a while, they rested in this loose embrace, basking in the afterglow of the passionate sixty-nine they had shared only a short while ago. They had left the bedroom door open after sharing a shower, and from across the hallway they could just see the soft glow of the fairy lights in the decorations Philips had set up near the dining table. If one squinted a little bit, the triangular shape was very close to a traditional tree and – in Wes' decidedly biased opinion – just perfect for Christmas Eve.

"You know, I never was a fan of minimalism, but I think I could get used to this," he mused. "It _is_ kinda Christmassy, but not blatantly so."

"I guess," Eric agreed, idly sipping his wine. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he was watching Wes. Sure enough, the question he'd half expected wasn't long in coming, and he suppressed a smile. Sometimes, Wes was just too predictable.

"Eric … you think we can have something like this again next year? Those pyramid thingies are more like a sculpture than a tree, it wouldn't be as sentimental …"

"You think?" he said neutrally.

"Well, yeah … just as a compromise. We don't have to, though," Wes hastened to add. "It was a terrific surprise, all of it, but I won't mind if you'd really rather not."

Eric slanted a glance at his lover. Wes was trying so hard to convince him – _-and himself too, I guess!- _– that he meant every word, that he really had given up wanting at least some form of holiday decorations in their home, it was almost pathetic. He would've made a sarcastic remark if it weren't for his certainty that Wes was doing so for one reason only – to humor _him_. Eric _couldn't _bring himself to mock that.

He also couldn't bring himself to just give in, though. Not after his adamant refusal in the beginning, or what he'd told Wes about his childhood up on the mountain. And yet, after the way Wes had thanked him for bending just a little bit, how could he _not_?

_-Maybe it's time I buried the ghosts of my past. After all, my present and my future are right here … with Wes.-_

"I'll think aboutit," he said at last, carefully non-committal. As he'd hoped, Wes was content.

"That's okay," Wes replied, his lips curving in a smile. "Thanks."

"You already-"

"-said that a couple of times, I know. But that was for arranging dinner; this was for not saying 'no' to a repeat."

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Eric warned, only to be silenced by a finger against his lips.

"I'm aware of that. It's enough that you're willing to even consider it."

"A year is a long time; I can still change my mind."

Wes surprised Eric by laughing softly. He raised himself on one elbow, pried the wine glass from his hand and put it on the nightstand. Then he leaned forward, capturing him between his arms and the headboard. The blue eyes sparkled more brightly than any candle or decoration Eric had seen all season.

"True," Wes murmured, his mouth almost, but not quite brushing against Eric's. "Just as long as you remember I can also use that year to persuade you."

"Oh? And do you have a specific method in mind?" Eric asked silkily, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip in blatant invitation. Wes didn't hesitate for a second to accept it.

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you," he replied between tiny, nibbling kisses. "After all, I wouldn't want to spoil your surprise!"

_**The End.**_

_(Famous last words: Remember I mentioned having six or so pages of 'leftovers' from an earlier draft? I __might__ be persuaded to eventually work them into a third and final chapter. It all depends on whether I can make it fit … and whether you guys want to see it. -evil grin- So … tell me? Please?)_


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